


For Luck

by BaraLinni



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, They'll get there in the end though, They're just kids figuring things out, Tomoshipping, eventually, teenage crushes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:12:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaraLinni/pseuds/BaraLinni
Summary: Past lives AU. Nasch and Merag live happily on their island. One day, a mysterious stranger arrives in a storm... more or less.





	1. Chapter 1

Nasch sat on the throne, idly dangling his legs and toying with a lock of his hair. Occasionally standing in for his parents as regent was of course an honor, as well as necessary practice for when he himself would become king, but that did not mean it was in any way fun. No thirteen year-old would think that telling people what to do with their fish and fruit would be the ideal way to spend a splendidly sunny summer's day. For a thirteen year-old prince, however, these things were expected of him. That did of course not make it even remotely less boring.

Nasch sighed and looked at the sparkling sea visible through the open doors to the throne room. The door was really only there as a means to shut out storms; it generally stayed open the remaining part of the year. Which meant enormous torment for young princes who would love to run down to the docks and throw themselves into the clear blue water along with their sister. Ah, to be young again.  
  
A shadow suddenly appeared at the door, and Nasch hurriedly straightened his back and placed his hands on the armrests and a serious look on his face. He had been practicing his Serious Look in the mirror, but Merag usually said it just looked like he was scowling. Well, be that as it may, a slightly grumpy-looking regent was way better than a goofy-looking one.  
  
The shadow stepped through the door and, as the sun stopped beaming down on it, turned into Nasch's mother and father, Queen and King of the Kingdom, Rulers of But One Island, Regents of This Single Island. Those last two were not their true titles, of course, but Nasch knew his parents were bothered by the fact that the Four Islands of Poseidon were not united, as they had once been. It did not bother Nasch. It had been like this for generations, why change something that already worked? Something that did bother Nasch, however, were the current looks on his parents' faces. Too calm. Too kind. Almost like the "we know you broke the urn your grandgrandgrandmother made, and we are not angry, however, we are becoming increasingly disappointed, since it is the third of her works you have managed to topple over in two weeks". Almost, but not quite.  
  
With the grace of a wave, the queen strode up to the throne and, with the grace of a wave feeling it was not walking fast enough to keep up, the king walked briskly behind her. At times like these, it was hard to tell who had been born royalty and who had been the fisherwoman who fell in love with the clumsy prince. They stopped in front of the throne and bowed their heads in greeting. Nasch bowed his head and racked his brain to see what kind of trouble he could have landed himself in this time.  
  
"We have received another letter", said his mother and reached out a small scroll. Straight to the point, as usual. Nasch grabbed the already opened scroll and did not even glance at the broken seal. 'Another' letter meant he knew exactly from whom they had the displeasure of receiving mail. He quickly read through the familiar threats and rolled up the scroll again, as if that would make the contents and the reality of them go away.  
  
In these moments, all he wanted was to look at his parents pleadingly and ask them to solve everything. But not even a mother can save the world from a powercrazed king.  
His mother fixed him with her powerful gaze. "Our people are aware, and they are losing hope". Nasch didn't know how to respond to that. 'I know' just did not sound right. Of course he knew, he had read all the letters, even though he always feared that the next letter would contain more than threats.  
  
His father cleared his throat. "A royal marriage would give hope to the people". His father's voice, but the words of the Council. Nasch sat completely still, as if that would make the words sink in more quickly. His father usually took such a long time to get to the point that Nasch was more confused by his sudden eagerness to seemingly get the whole ordeal over with. Until the realisation... well not hit him, exactly, more like started to gently prod at him.  
  
He must have looked shocked or confused or both, because his mother bent down to his level to look him in the eyes, as she had when he and Merag were little. "A king must do what he can for his people. Marriage is one of the easier ways". His mother was right, of course. Mothers always are in one way or another. However, that did not stop Nasch from being thirteen years old.  
"I'm not a king", he said with the small voice of an unsure child, nowhere near the authoritative voice he had been taught to use. "I'm just a prince".  
His mother smiled gently, and sadly, Nasch thought, before placing her hand on his head. "You won't always be".  
  
In that moment, sitting on the throne with his feet barely reaching the floor, Nasch felt smaller than he had ever felt before.  
  
~~

“They will be expecting an answer”.

Nasch, sprawled on his stomach on top of a quite decent pile of pillows, looked up from his book when Merag spoke. She was sitting cross legged on a pillow next to Nasch’s mountain, reading a book with an exceptionally boring cover, as usual. Nasch knew that what she had said was right, of course. Merag did not need to be a mother to always be right. She had the Gift, people said. Well, Gift or not, Nasch was not in the mood for this conversation, so with a satisfactorily princely scowl and a not so princely pout he returned to his book. He would soon be getting to the best part, where the brave Knight on his horse saves the princess from-

A pillow landed between Nasch’s face and the book, making him jump and scowl even deeper at his sister. “Or if not an answer, then at least some sort of reaction”. Merag narrowed her eyes at him when he gave a suffering sigh and pulled the newly thrown pillow over his head. “Nasch, behave”, she said sternly, and then added with a softer voice, “You know you cannot hide from this forever”.

“I know”, came the muffled reply. That was the problem; he did know. But knowing that refusing to get married will ultimately result in disaster for your people was not the nicest thing to think about. So he would rather postpone those thoughts for as long as possible.

“It has been nearly two weeks. You cannot keep postponing the thought of marriage forever”. He could feel that Merag was Seeing him; that tingle in his chest was a familiar part of growing up so close to someone with the Gift.

“Merag, I’ve told you to stop Seeing me”, was the weak retort he managed from under his pillow.

“And I have told you that I can’t always control it”, came her swift reply, but Nasch felt the tingle subside.

They were silent for a while, reading their books while listening to the wind making the buildings creak and the rain splatter onto every surface it could find. The storms were never hard to predict, especially when there were those with the Gift who could See a storm coming long before it did. Every person would be inside and every boat and ship would be tied securely with several thick ropes and chains even before the first clouds were visible on the horizon.

Finally, Nasch turned over the last page of the book and, as usual, considered reading it all over again. After he had finished looking at the illustration of the main characters, of course. It was beautifully drawn, and the only illustration in the whole book. That was why he was so fascinated by it. He traced a finger along the jawline of the Knight. Yes, definitely.

“How many times are you going to read that book?” Merag sounded amused.

Nasch huffed. “As many times as I please, dear sister”. To illustrate this, he turned the book over again while looking her in the eyes, and then began reading it anew.

She laughed. “As you please, dear brother. But do tell, what is it that makes you love it so?” Her tone had suddenly turned inquisitive, which made Nasch look towards her suspiciously.

“Is there perhaps a certain element that makes your princely heart soar?” she continued. “Perhaps the fair princess? Or the fair prince?” She winked, flashing him a smug grin.

Nasch turned toward his book again to hide the flush on his cheeks. “I just enjoy the story. And also, he’s a _knight_ , not a prince. Which you would know if you were not so caught up in your _boring_ books, dear sister”. He chanced a quick grin in her direction, hoping his cheeks were not as red as they felt.

She was still smiling smugly. “Perhaps I will read it one day, then, dear brother”.

~~

Nasch and Merag giggled quietly as they ran towards the throneroom, their feet splashing in more puddles than what may have been necessary. The morning had come bearing sunshine and a rumor of a stranger having arrived in the storm. So naturally, the first concern of the future king and the future head priestess was to quickly find out what kind of person that was. Treating outsiders justly was an integral part of ruling a kingdom, after all. Their sprint ended behind a corner, where they quickly helped each other wring out the lower hems of their clothes, as well as their hair. Looking a bit, though honestly not much, more presentable, they strode up the steps and entered the throne room.

Their mother and father were of course seated on their thrones. In front of the two thrones stood a battered and mudcovered young man and an equally battered and mudcovered horse. ‘Arrived _with_ the storm’ would be more appropriate to say than ‘arrived in’, but then again, reality is rarely as rumors would have it be. As Nasch and Merag approached the stranger, heads held high and with dignified strides - their teachers would weep from joy at the display - it started becoming clearer that somewhere beneath all of the mud and seaweed the young man and his horse had once been white. Or perhaps grey?

Whatever colour his clothes had once been, the man seemed to notice that the attention of the king and the queen was not exclusively on him anymore, and turned his head. His face looked a lot younger than Nasch had first assumed him to be, perhaps around Merag’s and his age. Nasch turned his eyes to the horse again and almost gasped. Now that he was this close, he could see wings underneath the dirt. Not a horse, then, a pegasus. He had known that they exist in other parts of the world, of course, but he had never seen one before. He composed himself and tried not to stare too openly as Merag and he walked around the stranger to stand between the two thrones.

Their father opened his arms, palms up, to show hospitality and peace, and said as much, as was customary to victims of shipwreck. Although, all of the victims Nasch had encountered previously had been from one of the other Islands. This boy looked like a complete outsider with his light skin. He also looked extremely confused, as if he did not understand what had just been said to him. He did however seem aware that he was in the presence of royalty, since he clearly made some kind of salute with his fist on his chest and bowed low. But when he opened his mouth, all Nasch could hear was gibberish.

He cast a quick glance at his parents and his sister, but neither of them seemed able to make any sense of what the stranger had just said.

His mother broke the silence. “Well, he is clearly an outsider, but he is just as clearly shipwrecked. Our rules of hospitality must be applied”.

“Agreed”, came his father’s reply, and he turned to the stranger again. “You are welcome to stay”, he said, slowly, while repeating the gesture of hospitality. Then he turned to his children. “Make sure he and his…”, he turned and narrowed his eyes at the pegasus, “... horse… are well taken care of. They will be your responsibility”.

Neither Nasch nor Merag held any form of objection. Instead they shared a small grin and walked up to the stranger. They bowed their heads in greeting before Nasch placed a hand over his heart. “Nasch”, he said, as clearly as he could.

Merag copied his gesture. “Merag”.

The stranger looked relieved and copied the gesture. “Durbe”, he said and offered a bright smile. There was a piece of mud stuck comically on his cheek. Nasch glanced at Merag who nodded. Priority one on the list of Hospitality would be washing off.

“Come with me”, Nasch said and grabbed Durbe’s hand without thinking, leading him out of the throne room, with Merag leading the pegasus behind them.

~~

Placing a bucket and a towel in front of Durbe had been an easy way to make themselves understood. While Durbe disappeared behind a curtain, after having spoken in a low, calm voice to his pegasus, Nasch and Merag got to work on washing the pegasus. Perhaps not the kind of work royalty would be strictly required to do, but what would later become of children who refused to do even the simplest of chores? Well, ‘simple’ was perhaps not the right word to describe the tedious scrubbing required to remove all of the dirt that clung to the poor creature. Footsteps alerted them to Durbe’s return, and without a word Durbe grabbed a towel and started scrubbing, too.

At last, all of the dirt had been transferred from the pegasus onto the towels, as well as onto Nasch, Merag, and Durbe. Merag poked at a huge splotch of mud that had splattered onto Nasch’s cheek and snickered, to which his response was to drag his mudcovered fingers down her cheek and grin triumphantly. Durbe bent down to check the legs of the pegasus for injuries, but Nasch glimpsed an amused smile on his face. It was a shame to hide that smile, really.

Then, Durbe seemed to remember something. He stood up again and placed a hand on the pegasus. “Mach”, he said and obviously tried not to make his proud smile too obvious. He had every reason to be proud, in Nasch’s eyes. Without the dirt, Mach was in fact splendidly white and, as far as Nasch could tell, far more beautiful than any horse he had ever seen.

While Nasch and Merag stepped back, Durbe continued to search for injuries along Mach’s legs and back, seeming pleased with the lack thereof. Though, when he got to the wings, he narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose. With gentle, experienced hands he started examining the wings until Mach made a sudden sound and pawed at the ground with a hoof. Durbe quickly let go of the wing and started to stroke him and talk to him soothingly. Then he looked at Nasch and Merag, and they nodded in understanding. A broken wing.

“I’ll go get some help”, Merag offered. She turned her back to Durbe and threw Nasch a quick, encouraging smile before she strode off. Nasch tried to shoot her a confused look, but she had already disappeared. She had obviously decided to be cryptic. Again.

The sound of soft babbling made Nasch turn around again to see Durbe cradling Mach’s head, rocking softly from side to side while talking to him in that calm voice that people use when talking to a hurt child. The sun shone down and made it look like they were enveloped in a golden aura. It was a beautiful picture, and Nasch suddenly regretted not practising painting.

Durbe looked up and smiled thankfully at Nasch, who suddenly felt awkward. It would not do to stand gaping until his sister returned. Where were his manners when he needed them?

He took the few steps until he stood beside Mach, on the side opposite Durbe. After glancing at Durbe for confirmation, Nasch placed a hand on Mach’s neck. Mach turned to look at him and then pressed his face into Durbe’s arms again, seemingly happy with the attention. Nasch was amazed at how soft Mach’s hair was compared to the horses on the Island, and began absentmindedly petting  him while wondering if every pegasus had a coat like this.

“He’s beautiful. I’d never seen a pegasus before”. Nasch did not realise he had said it out loud before Durbe’s head poked out from under Mach’s neck.

“Pegasus?”

They looked at each other, hands stilled. Nasch pointed at Mach. “Pegasus”.

Durbe nodded. “Pegasus!” They looked at each other and smiled.

It _did_ make sense. There were no pegasi near the Islands, so the stories of them must have come from Outside, and so too, presumably, had the word. Still, knowing that at least one word they said would be understood was somewhat of a relief.

Then, Mach made a disgruntled sound and burrowed his head into Durbe’s chest, closing his eyes when Durbe gently scratched his forehead.

Nasch watched the warm smile on Durbe’s face and could not help but smile himself.

~~

Before even a week had passed, Nasch and Durbe had become what would inarguably be called “friends”. Durbe seemed shy around new people, so he tended to follow Nasch around wherever he went. Nasch did not mind in the slightest. It was a nice change, spending time with someone his own age who was not his sister. Durbe was also picking up some words, so they were slowly becoming able to communicate with less exaggerated waving.

Mach had several fractures in his wing bones that needed time to heal, and they had no way of knowing from where Durbe had come or how to contact someone from his country. Durbe did not seem too bothered by being stuck on a desolate island, however. He did not interact with many people, but he looked to be in constant awe at the things he saw. Fruit trees seemed to really catch his attention, as well as different species of colourful insects and birds. Nasch had been showing him new parts of the Island each day, but he was slowly running out of new places. Trying to find new things on an island is not very easy.

He looked at Durbe, who was sitting in the grass watching as Mach grazed, and tried to think of something new he might want to see. Nasch pursed his lips a bit, something he oftentimes did while thinking, and wondered what he himself would want to see if he were the one stranded on an island. Almost immediately, he grinned and jumped onto his feet. Durbe looked up, surprised, and Nasch extended a hand toward him. “Come, I’ll show you something!”

Durbe smiled and grabbed Nasch’s hand and let him pull him onto his feet. Grinning widely and without letting go of his hand, Nasch led him through town in the direction of the harbour, but when they were nearly there he turned and started following the coastline. Since there was no actual path, they were climbing on top of rocks, laughing and grinning at each other every time a wave crashed into the coastline and they were hit by a spray of salt water. After a while, Nasch stopped and gestured to Durbe to be quiet by placing a hand over his mouth. Durbe nodded and they sat down and waited.

It did not take long before they were able to see shadows beneath the surface. Nasch grinned eagerly as the shapes came closer to their rock, becoming more clearly visible with their sharp fins and big, toothy mouths.

Suddenly, he felt Durbe grab his wrist. Nasch looked at him, worried that he had frightened him, but Durbe smiled back excitedly and gave Nasch’s arm a reassuring pat. He then returned to staring transfixed at the sharks gliding around beneath them, and Nasch felt a kind of joy that he was not certain he had ever felt before. Durbe’s hand on his wrist loosened its grip and without giving it any conscious thought, Nasch entwined their fingers.

~~

Nasch and Merah were in the library again, as they had always been during every storm for as long as Nasch could remember. The only difference was that this time Durbe was with them too, sitting on a pillow and slowly dragging his finger along the pages of a book while mouthing words to himself, brow furrowed in concentration. Every now and then he would poke Nasch and point at a word, and Nasch would show him how to pronounce it and then try his best to explain it. Thanks to this, there were now several small drawings made with chalk on the floor, conceived when gesturing had not been enough to convey the message. After the explanation Durbe would repeat the word along with the equivalent word in his language, and Nasch in turn would repeat that. Durbe would scribble down the word and his translation onto a piece of paper and then return to his book until he poked Nasch again. It was a slow process, but since they came up with it Durbe had started to learn more and more words, and Nasch was starting to understand some words in Durbe’s language too.

Merag was sitting on a pillow too, quietly repeating Durbe’s words to herself while seemingly engrossed in her own reading. However, the frequent glances she shot Nasch was proof that she was, in fact, not as concentrated on her book as she wanted them to think. Nasch did not particularly mind the glances, though he could have done without her knowing smile, as well as the winks she would send him every time their eyes met. Finally, after an agonising amount of time, she spoke. “Are you just shy or have you not realised it yet?”

Nasch turned on his pile of pillows to raise a questioning eyebrow at Merag. “Realised what?” This earned him a suffering sigh.

“You are honestly quite hopeless, dear brother”. She smiled sweetly and returned to probably-not-reading her book.

Nasch was about to ask her what she meant when he felt Durbe poke at him. He turned his attention away from his cryptic sister, who gave an almost inaudible snort that he chose to ignore. He leaned closer to Durbe and pursed his lips in thought once he saw the word. ‘Friend’. He furrowed his brow. Now, how does one explain… A thought struck him and he sat up and placed one hand on Durbe’s shoulder. He used his other hand to gesture between them and smiled. “Friend”.

Durbe looked slightly confused and repeated the motion uncertainly. “Friend?”

Nasch nodded and gave Durbe’s shoulder a pat. “Friend”.

Durbe’s face lit up with a smile. He repeated the word again and added his translation, which Nasch repeated. Nasch heard Merag trying to hide another snort, but when he turned his head to look at her, she was looking down into her book, deeply submerged into whatever it was she was reading. Nasch gave a very princely roll of his eyes as he lay back down onto his pillows. Sometimes he just could not understand what was going on in that mind of hers.

He turned the last page of his favourite book for the… he had honestly lost count of how many times he had read it. As usual, he was left looking at the illustration in the back. He felt a poke from Durbe, but when he turned his head to ask which word it was this time, he was met with a wide smile and Durbe’s hand shooting toward the book. Durbe tapped his finger on the illustration of the Knight and pointed to himself excitedly. “Me!”

Nasch looked between the illustration and Durbe, who continued to point and gesture and smile. “... You are a knight?”

“Me!” Durbe exclaimed again. Nasch looked at Durbe, trying to picture this timid boy in a knight’s armor, and smiled.

“Knight”, he said again, and Durbe nodded and repeated the word thoughtfully. They shared another smile, but when Nasch turned back to his book he glimpsed a complicated expression on Merag’s face. He tried to look her in the eyes, but she was staring intently down into her book again. He shrugged. She could be that way then, if she pleased. It did not bother him.

~~

Mach’s wings were healing nicely, and more quickly than Nasch would have liked. Durbe and he had become very close friends during the time they had spent together, and he almost dreaded the day he would have to see him leave. It might have been wishful thinking, but Nasch thought he could sense some of those same emotions from his friend. They were sitting next to each other on the Shark Rocks, silently watching the shadows move beneath the water. None of them quite knew what to say. A couple more days and Mach’s wings would be completely healed. Nasch didn’t want to think of what would happen after that, so of course it was the only thing he could think of.

Finally, Durbe broke the silence. “I… my king… quickly... sorry, my friend”. Nasch nodded and reached out to squeeze Durbe’s hand reassuringly. He tried to give him a convincing smile, but Durbe narrowed his eyes and scrunched up his nose. Not convinced, then. Nasch sighed and leaned back on his unoccupied hand, looking down at the circling sharks.

“You’ll miss our birthday…” He wasn’t aware that he had said that out loud until Durbe made a questioning sound. Nasch met his confused gaze and made a dismissive gesture. “No matter. It’s not important”.

Durbe scrunched his nose again. Then he seemed about to say something, but stopped. He made a very concentrated face, and looked very lost. The kind of expression he wore whenever he really wanted to say something but wasn’t able to. Nasch waited patiently, but it soon became obvious that whatever it was that Durbe wished to say, he had no words to express it. Durbe gave a resigned sigh and turned back to the sharks, gently squeezing Nasch’s hand. Nasch looked at Durbe’s sad frown and squeezed his hand in turn. Sometimes, feelings just could not be explained in words, even if you did know the language.

~~

The day when Durbe was to leave was the first day since his arrival that Nasch was not eager to get out of bed to see his friend. He had woken up early and had not been able to fall back asleep, so he had spent a good few hours trying not to think of how Durbe was leaving him behind on this island and never coming back. He had predictably not been doing too well in that regard. When the time came to get out of bed, Merag had practically dragged him out from underneath his numerous pillows and blankets, reprimanding him for ignoring his duties and his _friend_. She was right, of course, as always.

Now, Nasch stood awkwardly quite a way away from Durbe as servants and villagers milled around to help secure the food and clothes to the saddle and the saddle to Mach. People were bringing small gifts for Durbe to bring with him back home, and some sailors were pointing and gesturing excessively trying to describe the fastest and safest way to the mainland. When Durbe spotted Nasch he waved at him with an uncertain smile. There was no escape now. Nasch breathed deeply as he walked up to Durbe, still not sure what to do with himself. Princes did not fidget, so he didn’t. He did, however, purse his lips the tiniest bit and avert his eyes as he handed Durbe the small bundle he had been carrying.

Looking at all the gifts Durbe had already been given, Nasch’s own seemed almost childish in comparison. Looking up into Durbe’s eyes, on the other hand, made it feel like his present was worth more than anything that gold could buy. Durbe lifted the book and flipped through it, smiling brightly at the little pictures accompanying every word. The book was designed to teach children how to read, and was hardly fit for a knight, but Durbe held it gently in his hands and his face shone like the sun. He looked about to say something, but a loud screeching noise interrupted him.

Everyone who had gathered turned toward Merag, who was crossing the square, holding a small cage in her arms. Inside the cage sat three Messenger birds, and Nasch’s heart swelled with thankfulness to his sister. This way, Durbe would still be able to keep in touch in at least some form. Good Messenger birds were hard to breed and train, and Nasch knew that since Merag had picked them out, they were among the best. Durbe looked at the small letter containers tied around the legs of the birds before he smiled widely and took Merag’s hands and thanked her. The cage was secured on top of the rest of the packing, and there was no reason to delay any further. Durbe gave Mach some encouraging words and was getting ready to mount his pegasus when Nasch was struck by a sudden idea. “Durbe, wait!”

Durbe turned back, a hopeful glint in his eyes, as Nasch grabbed the cord he always wore around his neck and struggled to pull it over his unruly hair. He reached out his hand toward Durbe’s and handed the cord to him. Dangling from the leather cord was a shark’s tooth. “For luck”, he said, averting his eyes, and was therefore wholly unprepared for when Durbe suddenly threw his arms around him. After a moment’s confusion Nasch reciprocated the hug, and there they stood until one of the palace staff gave a small cough. Both slightly flustered, they stepped back from the embrace. Durbe smiled as he donned the shark necklace, letting it fall beneath his clothes for safekeeping.

Watching Durbe mount Mach and fly away, Nasch thought that this must be the worst moment in his life. He didn’t avert his eyes from the shrinking silhouette when he felt someone gently take his hand. “Don’t worry”, said Merag and squeezed his hand. “I have a feeling that he will return one day”.

Nasch wanted to believe her words, but at the same time he did not. False hope was never a good thing, even if it was given to you by a Seer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Slow burn? More like 'steadily accelerating burn' because I have no patience whatsoever" - Me while writing this

Every day, every week and month that passed without any sign of a Messenger bird felt like it ate away at Nasch. He worried, and the worry was constantly gnawing at the back of his mind and at the pit of his stomach. He worried that his friend had run into trouble on the way. That he had been caught by another storm or by a band of pirates or thieves. That he had lost his direction and become stranded in the middle of the ocean without fresh water. Nasch worried that the king to whom Durbe had pledged himself did not allow for Durbe to send letters, or that the birds had been shot down. And he worried that the silence was intentional; that Durbe had grown tired of the lonely prince on his island and simply chosen to never again be associated with him. That worry gnawed at him worst of all, and it grew explosively for every month that passed.

“It won’t do to let worry eat you alive”.

Nasch turned to look at his sister, who came sliding down the rocky slope and sat down beside him. He did not speak, opting instead to look down at the sharks again.

“He will write to you, I know he will”. Merag placed a gentle hand on Nasch’s shoulder.

Nasch pouted. “Did you See it or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Merag shrugged. “Can’t it be both?”

Nasch hoped she was right, of course he did, and he kept hoping for several months. Having  turned fourteen just weeks after Durbe had left, he was now learning to shoulder even more responsibility as the future king. An honor in itself, but horrendously boring at times, and Nasch could not help his thoughts from drifting to daydreams of a white bird with a letter tied to its leg. On one of those boring days when hardly anything happened, Nasch was sitting sideways on the throne, one leg dangling over the armrest and the other pulled up to his chest, head leaned back while trying to find new patterns in the paint on the ceiling. He was in the middle of deciding between a bird and a horse when the side door to the audience chamber slammed open, making him jump and yelp in surprise.

“Nasch!” Merag shouted while excitedly bouncing where she stood, gesturing wildly. “The bird, the bird!”

Nasch was on his feet and tearing past her in an instant, aiming for the nearest perch. When he arrived, out of breath and heart pounding furiously, he could have kissed the bird. Instead, he tore the rolled up letter from the confused creature and opened it, holding it up so that Merag, who had sprinted just behind him, could see it too.

‘Hello, my friend’ was written at the top. What followed next were two series of small, very nice, drawings. The first series showed a pegasus, a castle, a sun, a crown, a kneeling man, and a sword. Underneath a thick line to separate the series, Durbe had drawn a bird, five stylised moon cycles, a pegasus, a castle, a sun, and lastly a drawing of the shark tooth necklace Nasch had given him.

Nasch and Merag stared at the letter in silence, trying to make sense of it. “So…” Nasch started, “... Mach flew him home… in sunshine? Then his king… executed someone?” Merag snorted and Nasch laughed, and for the first time in months he felt genuinely happy. Durbe was doing fine. He had gotten back to his kingdom safely, and was allowed to send letters.

Merag tilted her head. “I think Durbe meant that he has officially pledged his service to his king. The other part though…” She furrowed her brow in concentration and Nasch adopted his thinking pout as they both stared at the letter in silence. Suddenly, Merag jabbed her brother in the side and lit up with a smile. “He’s… Nasch he’s coming back!”

Nasch stared at her, then at the letter, and then back at her. “Really?” he asked and could not care less about how incredulous and excited he sounded.

Merag nodded vigorously. “He must be! Look: five moons after the bird, Mach will fly him here. That’s our castle he’s drawn, I’m sure of it!”

Nasch’s eyes darted between the letter and the castle they were standing beside. The second castle in the letter matched their home almost perfectly, definitely too much to be a coincidence. He beamed at Merag, who smiled back, happy now that her brother’s spirits had finally been lifted. “Do you know what this means, Merag?” Merag raised an eyebrow at the _very_ specific question and Nasch smiled down at the letter. “He might get to stay for our birthday this year”.

~~

Never before had time seemed to move so quickly and so agonisingly slowly at the same time. Nasch could barely believe that it had already been almost a year since Durbe had first arrived, and he spent most days dangling his feet from the throne, watching the sky through the door and the windows, wishing there were a way to make the moon turn faster. Besides, travelling was not an exact science, so there was no way of knowing for sure exactly when Durbe would be arriving. He could arrive earlier than expected.

Or the moon could have finished its fifth cycle days ago and there could still be no sign of Durbe. Nasch stared through the open door at the darkened sky, biting the nail of his thumb nervously. All the windows had been barred and the boats had been pulled safely onto higher ground. The Seers had said that a storm was approaching quickly. If Durbe was not lucky, he might get caught up in that storm too, and who knows where he might end up this time. Instinctively, Nasch made a grabbing motion toward his necklace, which he of course had not worn in a year, since he had given it to Durbe. ‘For luck’ he had said. Nasch hoped that he had been right.

A sudden commotion outside caught Nasch’s attention and he quickly put both his feet on the floor, trying to look more like a trusted official and less like a distracted teenager. He heard hurried steps outside and a small child came rushing inside, pointing through the door. “He’s here!”

Nasch felt like he flew through the audience chamber and down the road toward the town square, to where the child had pointed. He luckily remembered to slow down before crashing into someone, but the crowd still had trouble parting quickly enough as he plowed through with long strides.

He stopped in the middle of the ring of onlookers, seeing Durbe and Merag squeezing each other’s hands in greeting. Nasch awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting to announce himself until after… Merag nodded towards him and Nasch was completely unprepared for the brightness of Durbe’s smile as he turned to face him. Nasch did not know who took the first step, but suddenly they were hugging tightly, smiling like there was no tomorrow. Just then, the first clap of thunder sounded across the ocean and heavy raindrops began to fall. Laughing, Nasch grabbed Durbe by the hand and pulled him toward the castle, Merag following suit through the now pouring rain.

~~

They picked up right where they had left off almost a year before with no difficulty at all. Since Nasch was not allowed to escape from his training – being the prince and all – Durbe quickly picked up the habit of standing beside the throne while the villagers asked Nasch questions which he did his best to answer or solve. When people with really petty arguments that had needed solving turned to walk out of the throne room, Nasch would roll his eyes at Durbe and they would smile.

While there was no one else there, Nasch would dangle his legs over the armrest and Durbe would sit cross-legged on the floor, and they would talk or read. Durbe seemed to be picking up on the language even faster now and was vastly improving at stringing sentences together, which meant that their conversations included less intense gesturing and more actual conversing.

If Nasch was needed somewhere else on the Island, Durbe followed him there too and stood beside him while the argument was settled.

During Nasch’s free time they continued exploring the Island, more often than not ending up sitting by the shark rocks before the sun set. Merag joined them whenever she had the time between her studies to become a Priestess and her studies on controlling her Gift. Nasch honestly had no idea of how she could handle being taught things for such a long time every day when he could not even sit still on a throne for an hour.

One of those evenings when all three of them were sitting on the rocks, Merag seemed quieter than usual. She joined the conversation with quick comments once in a while, but mostly she just seemed to watch Nasch and Durbe, thinking. “I think you both have no idea”, she murmured after a while, sounding contemplative.

They both turned to look at her quizzically, but she did not elaborate. Nasch jokingly pushed at her shoulder. “Merag, you’re being cryptic again”.

She shook her head and smiled. “I guess it’s still too early, then. It’s kind of fuzzy, to be honest. Hard to make out details”. They kept looking at her in confusion, but she just laughed and waved it off.

Durbe raised an eyebrow toward Nasch, who rolled his eyes in response, giving Durbe’s hand a small squeeze.

The days and weeks went by just like that, and Durbe showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. Nasch grew more and more excited as they got closer to Merag and his fifteenth birthday, something that Merag liked to tease him about. “I had never thought that you would get this much joy from turning a year older”, she would joke and aim to jab him in the ribs, resulting in a small scuffle for the upper hand until someone saw them or they decided to call a truce.

The only thing that made Nasch’s joy sway was the recurring feeling of inescapable doom every time his parents gave him The Look. He had still not talked to them about the marriage, and he was not about to anytime soon. For all intents and purposes, he acted as though he had forgotten all about it.

“You are a very bad liar, do you know that?”

Nasch threw Merag a dirty look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”.

“My point exactly. You cannot hide from it forever, I’ve told you already”.

Nasch groaned and buried his face in a pillow. The storms had started up again, so they were once again back in the library. His voice was muffled by the pillow when he began to talk again. “Why does it have to be me? And why marriage? Why can’t we just hold a reaaally big fishing festival or something? I’m sure the people would love that”.

Durbe looked up from his book and notes with a raised eyebrow. “Big fish? Where?”

Nasch shook his head and peeked up at Durbe from his pillow. “Big fishing festival”, he repeated, slower, and waved a hand half-heartedly. “Fun~”.

Durbe frowned. “You’re not happy. Why?”

Merag cut in before Nasch could answer. “Nasch doesn’t want to get married, so he’s sulking”.

Durbe looked thoughtful and started flipping through his notes, recognising the words but not their meaning. After a while, he stopped on a page and placed his finger beneath the word ‘marriage’. “Oh”. Nasch, once more with his face buried in the pillow, did not see the downtrodden look on Durbe’s face. They were silent for a while before Durbe spoke again. “With whom?”

Merag answered in her brother’s stead. “It hasn’t been decided yet”.

Durbe nodded silently and looked down into his book again, and they all listened to the rain and the wind outside.

~~

With Durbe quickly learning more and more of their language, the hours Nasch would have otherwise spent draped across the throne, quietly trying not to be bored to death, were actually becoming the most interesting hours of the day. On the day before Nasch and Merag’s long awaited birthday, Durbe was once again standing next to the throne where Nasch was sprawled out, listening intently to Durbe’s explanation of the birthday traditions of his people. He was listening so intently, in fact, that when a small child suddenly burst through the door, Nasch had had no time to adjust his position on the throne. Nasch saw the child freeze and take in the sight of the future king of the Island hanging his head down from the seat of the throne, a foot leaning on the headrest and a knee hooked over an armrest. Alarmed and slightly shocked, Nasch stared back, his upside-down perspective making it seem like the child was standing on the ceiling while it delivered its message.

“Several ships have just docked. They’re from…” The child looked down, fidgeting, and Nasch understood.

Thanking the child for bringing him word of this and dismissing it, Nasch swung his feet down and stood up too quickly, feeling his vision swim. Reaching out, he found Durbe’s hand without difficulty.

“Ships? From where?” Durbe sounded concerned. He should be, Nasch thought as he reached behind the throne for his sword. Just in case. While Nasch struggled to fasten the sword to his belt, Durbe had already retrieved his own sword, which was hanging at his hip in a matter of seconds. Of course, he was a knight after all. He had his manners, naturally, but with a sword in his belt and his back straight Durbe very much looked the part too. Nasch was suddenly struggling even more with his sword, hands not cooperating and eyes drifting.

“Wait, I’ll help”. Suddenly, Durbe’s hands were on Nasch’s and effortlessly fastened the sword with practiced precision. Glancing up from their hands, Nasch suddenly realised that he was in fact taller than Durbe. Durbe looked up, arching an eyebrow at Nasch’s grin. Nasch placed one hand on Durbe’s head and pulled it toward himself, marking out the height difference on his forehead. Durbe scrunched his nose but still held onto Nasch’s other hand gently. Then Nasch remembered.

“The ships!” he exclaimed and pulled Durbe out of the throne room and down toward the docks. On the way there he could see three ships with… white sails? He watched the ships in confusion as they hurried onward. If this was an attack, would they not have used red sails? Was this part of their plan? Were they trying to bluff their way onto the Island? Or was it something else?

Nasch’s questions were answered the moment he stepped foot on the lively docks and he heard a loud singsong voice. “Ta-da~! Guess who’s here for your birthday~!” A freckled face popped out from behind a sailor and Nasch sighed as this someone flung themselves at him, enveloping him in a tight hug. “I know my father is a horrible heap of dung, but Mother  figured out a way for me to visit you anyway, she really is bright, you know? ‘Let Vector lead the trading ships’, she said, and then she told me I could stop by here on my way back. She sends you both her love and well-wishes. Where’s Merag? I wanted to wish you both a happy birthday at the same time…”

He trailed off as he noticed Durbe standing awkwardly behind Nasch, and he put a hand dramatically over his heart. “Oh my, what a cutie! Nasch, who is _that_? How come we’ve never met before? He must be from the Island, righ-”. He gasped and looked excitedly between Nasch and Durbe. “Nasch, is this the one you wrote to me about last year? The knight? With such a cute face I wouldn’t have thought…” He trailed off again and looked Durbe up and down, humming approvingly. “Ooh he really is rather handsome, now that I think about it. He’ll be a real heartbreaker in about a year, trust me on this”. As he said this, he leaned closer to Nasch to whisper loudly in his ear. “You should hook him while you have the chance”.

Nasch snorted and rolled his eyes at the comment. “Hello, Vector”.

Vector, still clinging onto Nasch, gave him an expectant look. Nasch raised an eyebrow quizzically and Vector rolled his eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce me!”

“Oh, yes, of course”. Nasch turned to face Durbe and waved his hand between them. “Vector, meet my friend, Durbe. Durbe, this is my cousin, Vector”.

“Hello~!” Vector waved.

“Hello”. Was it just Nasch or did Durbe’s greeting seem a bit cold? He had no time to think about that further before Vector grabbed his hand to drag him off in search of Merag. Instinctively, Nasch grabbed Durbe with his free hand, and together the three of them wove their way through the crowd toward the Chapel so that Vector could properly deliver his early birthday wishes.

~~

The birthday celebrations were held the following day, in the same way that they usually were, starting with big feasts all over the Island. The biggest feast was naturally held in the audience chamber, into which had been squeezed  so many chairs and tables that walking was proving a challenge in itself. Nasch and Merag were sitting at the head of the biggest table while their parents sat at the opposite end. The feast, however good the food was, was usually the least interesting part of the celebrations, since the abundance of voices and laughter meant that conversations were incredibly difficult to uphold. This, however, did apparently not apply to Vector, whose voice was easy to discern through the cacophony. Or perhaps this was because he was leaning across Merag to practically shout in Nasch’s ear.

“So then I said that he should keep those hands to himself if he knew his own worth, because I was _not_ walking away without those shoes. There was only the one pair! Ooh, he did not like that, let me tell you. So you know what he did? He tried to outbid me, that nincompoop! Me! Well, there never was a bidding war which I did not win, so I kept bidding over him until he finally gave up. I ended up paying trice the original price in the end, but it was honestly so worth it. I mean, look at them!”

Nasch made a disgusted face and leaned back as a foot was suddenly shoved into his field of view, seeing Merag mirror him as the foot was retracted past her face.

With both feet once again underneath the table, Vector immediately began telling another story which Merag pretended to listen to attentively. Nasch was done pretending to be interested in Vector’s ever growing wardrobe, and his ear felt like it may never be the same again. He leaned to his left to roll his eyes at Durbe. “How does he have the time to breathe if he’s never quiet?” Durbe laughed, but did not try to strike up a conversation. Nasch did not blame him. He could barely hear himself think.

While Durbe was busy trying to impale both meat and vegetables on his knife at the same time, Nasch thought back to what Vector had said when he had arrived that morning. For lack of a better thing to occupy his time, he let his thoughts wander until they got stuck on a somewhat silly question. Was Durbe ‘cute’ or was he ‘handsome’? Nasch let his eyes sweep across Durbe’s features. Soft cheeks, soft jaw, soft nose. The surprisingly sharp eyes gave his face more of an edge, but Nasch would still say that he was better categorised as ‘cute’.

As Nasch watched, one vegetable that Durbe was trying to spear suddenly flew off the plate and onto the floor, and Durbe scrunched his nose in dismay. Definitely ‘cute’. Nasch felt something flutter inside of him, but before he could figure out what or why, the Queen stood up and announced that the dancing was about to begin. Nasch and Merag grinned at each other. Finally. Vector and Merag took off through the tightly packed crowd and Nasch grabbed a confused Durbe by the hand. “Dancing! It’ll be fun!” he explained before he towed Durbe out of the audience chamber and toward the biggest town square available.

It seemed like the whole island had been decorated with  ribbons that fluttered in the breeze and with lanterns in every colour imaginable. The music had already started by the time Nasch had gracefully elbowed his way past the onlookers into the open space reserved for dancing. He suddenly felt Durbe let go of his hand, and turned around to find him obviously trying to look like he was not hiding in the crowd. Nasch held out his hand, but Durbe shook his head.

“I don’t know this dance”, he said, looking disgruntled.

Nasch did not retract his hand. “Do you like dancing?”

Durbe looked up at Nasch and then down at the ground again. “Well… yes”.

“Then I’ll teach you!” Nasch grinned and pulled Durbe from the crowd and out into the open.

Durbe looked incredibly awkward while Nasch demonstrated the basics of the dance, showing him the proper hand movements, step sequences and spins. When Nasch considered his pupil fully taught, he pulled him into the ring of dancing pairs. “You learn better by doing!” he responded to Durbe’s scandalised face and began dancing, giving Durbe an encouraging smile. Before long, Durbe had learnt the steps and had also proved to be a surprisingly good dancer. Above all, he seemed to be having fun, smiling and laughing, and Nasch decided that yes, Durbe was _definitely_ ‘cute’.

Nasch would happily have danced with Durbe all night, but after the first dance something loud and annoying but somehow still lovable suddenly seemed to fly in between them and wrapped its arms around Nasch’s neck.

“Nasch, please dance with me now!”

Nasch sighed. There was no getting out of this. “Alright, Vector”. He slunk out of Vector’s – not very tight – grip to give Durbe a bow and an apologetic smile. He then held out a hand to Vector. “Will you accompany me for this dance?”

“It would be my pleasure”, Vector responded with a dignified air before giggling and taking Nasch’s hand.

Nasch saw Merag ask Durbe to dance, but he lost track of them as soon as the dancing began. Vector was a good dancer, but his version of polite smalltalk had always been a bit…

“... and you should have _seen_ his face when I asked the guard how her younger brother was doing and she replied that from what she was seeing right in front of her, he was being somewhat of an unsightly ass. He hadn’t even recognised his own sister, can you believe that? And it wasn’t until _then_ that he seemed to realise who _I_ was and ooh the _look_ on his _face_ when he realised that he had been trying to flirt with the prince. I say ‘trying’ because honestly, the only thing about him that spoke to me was his forearms, and _definitely_ not whatever it was that came out of his mouth. I do hope he had drunk, because if that was really the best he could do then I would feel compelled to pity him. Oooh, and did I tell you of the time when…”

How he managed to never stop talking even when the dance required them to spin apart was beyond Nasch. He let Vector blabber on about his escapades, periodically shooting in an ‘oh no’ to humour Vector and allow him to respond with an ‘oh yes!’ before continuing his story. Not really listening, Nasch allowed his eyes to sweep over the dancers until he finally found  Merag and Durbe, who looked a bit downtrodden even at this distance. At that moment, Durbe looked up and his eyes locked with Nasch’s. Nasch inclined his head toward Vector and rolled his eyes with a grin, making Durbe smile. Nasch felt like he had accomplished a prestigious mission when he saw Durbe continue to smile before the crowd moved and they lost sight of each other again.

Suddenly, Nasch became aware that Vector had stopped talking. Slightly alarmed at this novelty, he turned his attention back to Vector, who was watching him with a raised eyebrow and a hard to read smirk. Nasch gave him a confused look and Vector waggled his eyebrows and his smirk widened. Nasch gave him an even more confused look. “What?”

Vector’s grin turned into a sigh. “Dearest cousin, sometimes you really do make me question my own abilities”. Before Nasch could make him elaborate, Vector interrupted him. “Durbe is cute, would you not agree?”

Nasch blinked. “Well, yes. If it’s between calling him ‘cute’ or ‘handsome’, he is definitely ‘cute’”.

Vector nodded. “Yes, definitely. We’re getting warmer”. Before Nasch could ask him if he was aware that the weather would be turning any day now, Vector interrupted him again. “Don’t you think there might be something about Durbe which you don’t know? Perhaps you should have a talk. You know… heart to heart?”

Nasch was even more confused now. Why was Vector showing this much interest in Durbe? Asking about him, asking what Nasch thinks about him, calling him ‘cute’ every chance he gets…

Wait.

“Vector, are you…”

Vector’s face lit up.

“... in love with Durbe?”

Vector’s face fell, followed by his body. From his new position on the ground, he dramatically crawled onto his knees and looked up at Nasch, heaving a defeated sigh. “Nasch, you…” He interrupted himself and shook his head. “Why do I even bother?” He let Nasch pull him onto his feet and they jumped into the dance again, but after not very long he gave Nasch a calculating look. “Nasch. Hypothetically, if I _was_ in love with Durbe, how would you feel about it?”

Nasch was going to say that, as always, he would enjoy watching Vector make a fool of himself while shakily trying to pursue the current object of his affection. But there was something about picturing Vector with Durbe that felt… Nasch did not know how to describe it, but it was not a good feeling.

While he pondered this, the dance ended and Vector bowed politely before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. “Make sure to think that over”. Vector waved as he sauntered off and Nasch had never been this confused in his life.

~~

When Nasch had finally dragged himself out of bed the next morning he found Vector and Merag in the kitchen with their heads together, clearly discussing something over a pile of leftover biscuits and cake. When they saw Nasch, they stopped talking abruptly before they both shoved their mouths full of cake. The failsafe trick for avoiding questions. Well, they could keep their secret, Nasch could not imagine that it was too spectacular anyway. He rolled his eyes, making sure that they saw him do it, before he grabbed a plate filled with snacks and headed outside.

Letting his legs carry him wherever they saw fit, he found himself by the stables, where Mach was grazing, and peeking underneath Mach’s belly he saw Durbe sitting in the grass as usual. He walked around the pegasus and plopped down beside Durbe, who seemed to be jolted out of a very deep thought but smiled brightly regardless. “Hello, my friend”.

Nasch repeated the greeting and then they sat in silence, slowly eating their way through the mountain on the plate. Nasch found himself glancing at Durbe more often than not. He could not help but think of what Vector had said the night before. Was Vector really in love with Durbe? And why did that thought make Nasch feel so… odd? “What do you think of Vector?” he asked without thinking.

Durbe’s eyes snapped up to meet Nasch’s for a split second before they started to dart around wildly. “Umm… I… I think he seems… kind?”

What was with that suspicious reaction? Nasch adopted his thinking pout and watched Durbe picking at his nails and seemingly avoiding eye contact. Durbe rarely fidgeted, and if he did, it often meant that he was embarrassed about something. But what could he…

A thought struck Nasch. What if Durbe… was in love… with Vector?

Nasch blinked. Well. It would make sense. Durbe had been acting strangely ever since Vector had arrived, avoiding eye contact and looking lost in thought. And Vector… well, he was Vector, and Nasch knew all about his extensive history with love at first sight.

The more he thought about it, the more sense it seemed to make. That, however, did not stop him from feeling… something. And this _something_ grew stronger every time Nasch went through his findings in his head, and he had no idea why. Why was the idea of his best friend and his cousin together so… utterly appalling? He glanced over at Durbe, at his soft nose and cheeks that had turned slightly red in the sun, with faint freckles showing around the eyes. He could easily see why Vector would like him. That thought elicited an explosive response somewhere within him, and Nasch suddenly felt like curling up underneath three blankets and going back to sleep.

Excusing himself, claiming that he needed to ask Merag of news about the weather, he hurried off toward the Shark Rocks, hoping that he would not run into either his sister or their cousin on the way. With Merag bearing the Gift, she could sense other people’s feelings, sometimes before they even felt them themselves, but the one thing she could not See was how to handle those feelings. Vector was a sweet person, really, and had a knack for knowing when people were feeling off and what they wanted him to say. But what Nasch wanted right now was to be alone and very pointedly _not think_. He sat down on the biggest rock, dangling his feet over the edge, knowing exactly how dangerous that was considering how high sharks could jump.

That was how Merag found him. Nasch had no idea how long he had been sitting there, but judging by the sun it had already been hours. Merag sat down next to him, dangling her feet over the edge too. After a couple minutes of silence she spoke. “I can’t See what you’re thinking. There is just too much to make sense of it”.

Nasch snorted. “Yes, I had noticed that”.

Merag tentatively put her hand over Nasch’s, squeezing gently. “You know you can talk to me, Nasch”.

He nodded, but made no attempt to talk. He just needed some time to make sense of it himself, first. That’s all. Just some time to think.

~~

The following week or so was torture. Nasch could not look Durbe or Vector in the eye, and seeing Merag was a constant reminder that he should probably actually spend his time thinking things through instead of avoiding people. So naturally, he was now sitting by the Shark Rocks, definitely thinking and certainly not using this as an excuse for avoiding confrontation with the people of whom he was thinking. He knew that postponing the talk was not solving anything, and thanks to this, things had felt increasingly strained between Durbe and him ever since the dance. With Durbe’s arranged time on the Island nearing its end, this whole affair felt incredibly ill-timed. Naturally, Nasch still had no idea how to even breach the subject, and-

The sound of steps behind him made him jump and turn his head, only to lock eyes with Durbe. They both averted their gaze awkwardly, but after a small window of hesitation, Durbe sat down. Nasch could not help but notice that he sat further away than he usually did. Before the awkward silence could become too heavy, Durbe began to talk.

“Merag said you were here”. _Oh, did she now._ “She said that we… should talk”. _Of course she did._

Nasch sighed and steeled himself. After over a whole week he still had no desire to hear what he knew Durbe was here to say.

Durbe took a deep breath. “... I hope that you and Vector are happy together”.

Wait. _What?_ Nasch turned to stare in shock at Durbe. “ _What?_ ”

Durbe looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry if I… I just want… I wish you happiness”.

Nasch was still staring. “Vector and I? But I’m not… I mean, we’re not… Aren’t you and Vector in love?”

This time it was Durbe who stared at Nasch. “What? No! No, no, no”. He paused and seemed to consider the possibility for a split second, and then scrunched his nose in disgust. “No. Absolutely not”.

They looked at each other and then burst out laughing at the same time. So it had all just been a misunderstanding? And Durbe had thought that Vector and Nasch… Nasch laughed even harder and he saw Durbe wipe away a tear.

“But… how did you… Why?” Nasch managed between hiccups.

Durbe looked at him sheepishly. “He is always… so close. And you said a word that I didn’t understand… I thought…” Durbe looked down, fidgeting.

Nasch wracked his brain, trying to think back. “... ‘Cousin’?” Durbe nodded and Nasch had to hold back a laugh. “That means that our mothers are sisters”.

“Oh”. Durbe snorted, and just like that they were both lying on their sides, laughing hard enough to question if their lungs would be able to take the exertion. Nasch could not recall the last time he felt this relieved, or tired.

~~

Durbe and Nasch told no one of the misunderstanding, and things went back to normal between them, much to Merag and Vector’s apparent delight. They spent their time as they always had, but with the added feeling of dread at how quickly time passed. Durbe could not stay forever, and the storm season would soon begin.

And for how long was Vector planning to stay, exactly? He was showing no signs of leaving anytime soon, and seemed to be spending an awful lot of time sitting with Merag, heads together during hushed conversations. Nasch was not trying to listen in, that would have been incredibly rude, but he could not help catching a word or two as he walked past them at the very reasonable distance of ‘just enough to not look suspicious’. The word he usually caught was ‘Nasch’, which of course made him even more curious. What could they be saying about him that they could not tell him directly?

As Nasch was pondering this one morning, pretending to eat his breakfast, he saw Merag and Vector nod firmly at each other at another table. Without a word, Vector stood up and sauntered over to Nasch, leaning on the table and giving him an intense look. “Durbe will be leaving soon”.

Nasch instantly grew suspicious. What was the point of stating something so obvious? What was he trying to gain from this?

“It would be a shame if some… things… were left unsaid. Some feelings left unspoken”. He gave Nasch an expectant, hopeful look. Nasch replied by furrowing his brow in confusion. What was he talking about?

Vector waited patiently for all of three seconds before he sighed heavily. “Nasch, is there anything that you feel should be said between _Durbe and you_ before he leaves?”

Nasch kept looking at him blankly.

Vector actually groaned and threw a despairing look over at Merag, who was leaning her face into her hands, slowly shaking her head. Vector opened his mouth and closed it again, gesturing vaguely with his hands, searching for the right words. At last, he seemed to find them, and pulled out the chair opposite Nasch, clasping his hands on the table. “Nasch”, he started and took a deep breath. “Durbe is clearly attractive. What if… someone in his country realises this… and gives him a reason not to come back here. How would that make you feel?”

Nasch was even more confused now. He must have looked it too, because Vector sighed.

“Dear gods”, he mumbled before speaking up again. “Nasch. How would you feel if Durbe married and never again came to visit you?”

Nasch felt a pang in his chest at those words, as well as a creeping suspicion. He thought silently for a while. “Vector…”

Vector lit up, eyes shining. Merag was clasping her hands together behind him.

“... Are you really… in love with Durbe?”

Vector wailed and threw his arms into the air dramatically while Merag let her head fall onto her table. “I give up!” Vector stood up and stalked off toward the exit. “I have tried and I have failed. Merag, it’s up to you now”.

Nasch watched him disappear through the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him, and rolled his eyes. Vector really did have a taste for dramatic effects. Who even wears a cape to breakfast?

Despite Vector’s words, Merag made no move or sound. Silently, Nasch continued to pick at the remaining food in front of him, pouting. What Vector had said was beginning to truly bother him now. Should he ask Merag? Would she know? “Merag”.

She looked over at him.

“Is Durbe really that attractive?”

Merag snorted violently with laughter before she composed herself enough to talk. “Nasch. Brother dearest. Out of all the people you know, you choose to ask that of _me_?”

Oh, right. Nasch could now see the obvious flaw in his choice of phrasing. “No wait, I was… I mean…” He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a way to get an answer to his real question without asking that exact question. “Do you think that Vector finds Durbe attractive?”

Merag gave him a careful, calculating look. Reading his face and posture, trying to figure out what to answer. Her silence was not reassuring to Nasch, who began picking at his nails. “... Why are you asking?” When he did not answer, she thought for a moment before she gasped in realisation. “You think Vector is in love with Durbe!” Nasch stared down at his hands and Merag sounded like she was doing her best not to burst out laughing. “Oh, dear brother, you really do have a knack for jumping to all the wrong conclusions”.

Nasch stuck out his bottom lip defiantly and threw her an unconvincing glare. “So you’re telling me that he isn’t?”

Merag winked. “I can tell you with confidence that Vector is very much not in love with Durbe. He may find him attractive, sure, but honestly, Nasch, we both know what Vector is like when he’s in love”. She had a point. A very good one. Since Vector could function normally around Durbe he was probably not too smitten with him after all. Nasch reflexively let out a relieved sigh, immediately wondering why he had done so.

He saw Merag peering at him with an unreadable expression. “Actually…” She paused to consider her next words. “I think the question you should be asking is: ‘Is Durbe in love with someone?’” She stood up, walking around the tables to give Nasch a pat on the shoulder before disappearing through the door. Nasch felt something twist inside of him and he sighed. Would he never have a moment’s rest?

~~

Nasch woke up early from a dream he did not remember, and felt his heart sink rapidly when he realised that today was the day that Durbe would leave again. Too restless to go back to sleep, he decided to take a stroll, and after padding through the quiet corridors he found himself at the stables. A greyish mop of hair was visible above the wall of a stall, and without a word, Nasch entered the stall and plopped down beside Durbe on a pile of hay. Durbe looked up and they smiled sadly at each other before taking hold of the other’s hand, squeezing gently and intertwining their fingers.

The silence made Nasch think back to what Merag had said the day before. Was Durbe in love with someone? And if he was, in what way would that affect Nasch? And if it did, _why?_ “Hey, Durbe…”

Durbe turned to look at him.

“Do you… have somebody you love?”

Durbe’s eyes widened and his face flushed before he looked down at the floor, and Nasch felt as if his heart dropped down into his stomach. There really was no need for a verbal answer, his face said it all. “... Oh”, Nasch managed to whisper, before clearing his throat, trying his best to suppress the feeling of something unpleasant rising within him. “Do they… love you too?”

Durbe glanced up at him quickly before looking down at floor again. “No. At least… not in the same way”.

Nasch was almost ashamed of the relief that flooded him at that. Why did that keep happening concerning Durbe, anyway? He swallowed. “Do you… plan to tell them?”

Durbe kept looking at the floor. “I don’t know. Merag said it’s… worth trying. But I don’t…” He stopped and shook his head.

Nasch nodded. He could understand that you would hesitate before confessing… _Wait_ … “... _Merag_ said that?”

Durbe’s eyes widened and he bit his lip, obviously not having meant to let that slip, and Nasch felt betrayed. His own sister, conspiring against him? Though, beneath those feelings, he knew that if Merag was involved, it was probably for the best to listen to her. He pondered this for a while, absentmindedly stroking the back of Durbe’s hand with his thumb. If Merag said so, it was probably fated and would happen sooner or later. Nasch glanced at Durbe, who was hanging his head and gnawing at his lip. Seeing how downtrodden Durbe looked, Nasch spoke without thinking. “I think you should tell them”.

Durbe’s head snapped up and the blush crept back onto his face. He averted his eyes. “No, maybe it’s better not to…”

“No, you definitely should”. The more Nasch thought about it, the more sure he felt that this was the right thing to do. Especially if it would make Durbe feel less miserable. “You won’t know if they love you too if you never ask them”. He turned his body to face Durbe, placing his other hand on their entwined hands and looking him in the eyes. “And if they don’t, then at least you tried and things can go back to the way they were before”.

Durbe looked up at him hopefully. “Really?”

Nasch nodded. “I’m certain. Just go up to them and show them how you feel. Don’t even think, just do it”. Before he had even finished his sentence, Durbe had leaned toward him and pressed their lips together.

It was a quick, chaste kiss, but it sent a warm tingle through Nasch's entire body. Durbe pulled back, face redder than Nasch could have ever imagined. “I love you… I think”.

Nasch sat frozen, too many thoughts and emotions rushing through him. Durbe? In love with _him_? He would need a moment to process this.

Durbe smiled sadly and looked down at their hands. “It’s alright. I just wanted to…” He took a deep, slightly shaky breath. “I know you don’t love me back… and it’s alright”.

_Hold on._

Durbe’s voice was shaking even more now. “You don’t have to… Let’s just forget-”

Nasch took his own advice and acted without thinking, leaning forward to kiss Durbe again. The tingling warmth returned immediately, stronger than before, and when they parted it was Nasch’s turn to blush and look down. “I’m in love with you too, I think”. Of course. It seemed so obvious now that he said it out loud. He glanced up at Durbe and smiled, and Durbe smiled back, and suddenly they were both shaking with laughter, lying down in the hay, still holding hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to finish this chapter before the end of Zexal month so... success? It fits the prompt for OTP day, at least.  
> I had a plan for how to divide the chapters, which I now realise will probably result in very long chapters, but hopefully no one will mind too much x}  
> Also, my friend introduced me to the concept of Vector being Nasch and Merag's cousin and I am forever grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really slow at writing but there will be more. Be patient with me


End file.
